


brown like the sea, blue like the sand

by agaminae



Category: Galavant (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon Era, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-04
Updated: 2019-06-04
Packaged: 2020-04-07 18:31:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,827
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19090702
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/agaminae/pseuds/agaminae
Summary: It all starts with a sword sharpening incident. (No, not that kind.)





	1. did i say blue?

**Author's Note:**

> or: galavant if roberta never existed, and richard and galavant fell in love

It all starts with a sword sharpening incident.

Richard and Galavant had just settled down for the evening. The fire was roaring (thanks to Galavant, of which he was very proud), and the warmth after a long, cold, wet day of walking through the forest felt _heavenly_. Galavant was leaning against a tree, close to dozing off, when a high pitched yelp startled him awake.

“Oh no, oh no,” Richard whispered, clutching his right hand. Galavant was at his side immediately. 

“Let me see,” he says in a commanding voice that usually gets Richard to obey immediately. Richard looks frantic, and seems unable to pull his gaze away from his hand. A thin slice runs down the middle, blood flowing freely. Galavant rips off a piece of his shirt and quickly wraps it around the wound. He later realizes this was quite dramatic, seeing as they have bandages in Gal’s pack not even a few feet away, but he was in the moment. 

“What happened?” Gal asks, in an attempt to get Richard to stop looking at his hand like it has just been chopped clean off. He’s even going pale. For a King who has ordered countless executions, beheadings, and other forms of messy slaughter, he does _not_ handle the sight of his own blood well.  

“Hey,” he says, grabbing Richard’s chin and turning his face towards him, “Look at me.” 

The man has honest to God tears in his eyes.

"I’m sorry, Gal, it's just that I’ve never sharpened my own sword before— I’ve never even _owned_ a sword before, really, Gareth made me carry a dull one for appearances when in reality _he_ did all of the required stabbing, and—” Galavant silences him with a finger on his mouth when he notices that Richard is trembling.

“It's alright,” he says gently. “Just don’t look at it. Keep looking at me. Don't think about it, either.”

“Well now I can't stop thinking about it because you told me not to think about it.”

Galavant sighs, and grabs the canteen of water next to him. “Then we might as well clean and bandage it properly.” Richard’s eyes grow wide. 

“It's just water. It may sting a little but you're lucky we don't have any alcohol. Don't look while I do this. Just look at me. Understand?” Richard nods, eyes locked on Gal’s. They are very close. _Not the time, Gal._  

Galavant carefully removes the bit of shirt, and the wound has luckily stopped bleeding, but it does look fairly nasty. Richard is very obviously trying not to look— his jaw is clenched and his eyes are boring into Gal’s. Gal pours the water over the wound as slowly as he can, but doesn't miss the sharp intake of breath when it makes contact. 

“I’m sorry,” he says gently, reaching for the bandages. He begins re-wrapping the wound, and tries to ignore the warmth he feels in his gut as his fingertips glide over Richard’s for a moment. There is another sharp intake of breath at this, and Gal knows he didn't do anything to cause sudden pain. Is the fire _too_ warm?

“There,” Gal says, practically a whisper even though he meant to announce it with some finality. He coughs. “That's better, right?”

Richard keeps staring at him. Have his eyes always been this blue? They're really, _really_ blue.

“Richard.”

“Hmm?” he says, dreamily.

“You can look now.”

“Oh!” Richard is pulled from his menagerie at this, but does not remove his hand from Gal’s as it rests on top of his palm. “It looks good.”

“We’ll have to change the bandage daily, but it should heal fairly quickly.”

“Yes, yes, excellent. Thank you, Gal.” Richard pulls his hand away, now, scooting away and pretending to examine it closely. Gal hopes he didn't do something wrong, but Richard is odd, and he leaves it at that. If the loss of contact leaves him feeling a bit empty, well, that's his business.

Galavant bids Richard goodnight, and they sleep on opposite sides of the fire which is suddenly not warm enough.

 

* * *

 

Richard seems off the next day. He shies away from all contact, even going as far as doing a full _twirl_ to avoid Galavant’s friendly clap on the back. He says it's because his hand hurts. Gal doesn't push, but if he’s honest, it hurts his feelings a little. Richard is usually a big fan of friendly affection, and they are always walking with their shoulders bumping and sitting with their legs pressed against one another. He misses it, he realizes, when the day is winding down.

Richard even asks to re-bandage his wound himself. “I can do it”, he insists, almost pleading as he grabs the bandages from Gal. Gal hesitantly agrees, but keeps a close eye on him. Richard _does_ end up doing it himself, but Gal has to try very hard not to intervene as he watches his trembling hands try and fail to tie the bandage multiple times, before he simply tucks the bandage underneath itself in a loose hold and huffs. He still does not ask for Galavant’s help.

The silence is palpable. Even the fire seems to be crackling less than usual, until Richard speaks, so softly Gal almost doesn't hear him.

“I think I may be in love,” he says, and Gal’s heart definitely doesn't seize up.

“Oh?” he says, feigning interest. “Tell me about them,” he says, just to prove to himself that he is totally okay with Richard being in love with someone. He should be jumping for joy, really, since it means Richard will stop being so dependent on him. Right?

“Well,” Richard starts, “They're very strong. And handsome.”

A man, then. That's fine, Gal tells himself, pointedly ignoring the _why not me?_ in the back of his head. Maybe he met someone in the Enchanted Forest.

“And they believe in me, even though no one else does. They make me feel like I can do anything, really.”

Gal has a sudden realization. It's Gareth. It has to be. Strong, handsome, and he’s been with Richard since the beginning. An invisible knife twists in Galavant’s stomach.

“They sound like a real catch,” he says, not entirely succeeding at keeping the spite out of his voice. Richard merely responds with a sound of agreement. It is silent for a while, until Richard once again speaks up.

“Tell me about your love,” he says, as if that isn't opening the biggest can of worms in the history of canned worms.

“Oh, well, they're, uh… A huge pain in my ass, if I’m being honest.” No lie there. Richard doesn't respond, just simply waits for more.

“But they're also one of the most kind hearted people I’ve ever met,” he admits. “And their eyes are really, _really_ blue. Sometimes when I look at them I feel like I’m looking into the sea.”

“Doesn't Isabella have brown eyes?” Richard asks curiously, and Gal panics. Oh no. Oh no. Back up. _Why_ did he say blue eyes?

“Uh, did I say blue? I meant brown. And I meant the… sand… not sea. It's like I’m looking at the sand. You know, warm, brown. Well more like tan, really, but you get the idea. _Brown_.” Smooth. More silence. Gal is, like, three seconds away from a panic attack but all he can do is scream in his head as he waits for Richard to say something. He waits a long time. Why hasn't Richard said anything?

“Thank you, Gal.” is all he gets before Richard turns on his side to sleep.

_Great job, Gal._


	2. tad cooper's day off

“I admit, I’m on a bit of an unlucky streak, but I am destined for great things. You’ll see!” Richard’s voice breaks at the end. It is the smallest change, but Gal notices it, despite his boiling blood.

“You have about as much chance of great things as that _lizard_ does of breathing fire!” he spits out, unthinking, unable to focus on anything other than _Richard traded the jewel of Valencia for a lizard._

Richard holds the lizard up, honest to God expecting him to breathe fire out of his one pound tubby body, and Galavant is _pissed._

“The perfect pair,” he says, “A dragon that isn’t a dragon, and a King that isn’t a King.” Galavant turns and walks away, unable to look into Richard’s eyes any longer. _What are you doing?_ A small voice nags. _You’re supposed to be the one that believes in him._ He ignores it, walking away, unsure of where he’s going, but _away._

“Well I am done with you too!” is the last thing he hears from Richard before he makes his way into the forest.

 

* * *

 

 _Of course my only hope of building an army aren’t actually giants_ , Gal thinks, because that’s just how his day is going.

When he thinks it absolutely could not possibly get any worse, Richard presents himself amongst the “dwarves”. Of course. Why wouldn’t this happen?

They step closer to each other, and Galavant is having a hard time staying mad at him, until he remembers that he _traded the priceless jewel of Valencia for a lizard._

“Galavant,” Richard says, and did he just look him up and down? “You’re looking well.”

“I saw you this morning, you idiot,” Gal deflects, “I thought I got rid of you.”

“Well you thought wrong then, didn’t you?” Richard says, and Gal realizes they sound more like a bickering married couple than sworn enemies.

A few more admittedly pathetic insults are thrown, before one of the dwarves decides to initiate battle right then and there. This is fine with Galavant, anger still racing through him, and he winds up to punch Richard square in the face. Surprisingly, Richard stops him, grabbing his wrist.

He notices that Richard is holding onto his wrist with his hurt hand, pain clear on his face, and Galavant freezes momentarily. Richard seems confused by this and just looks at him. _Damn his blue eyes._

“Okay, stop. Everybody. Hey! Stop!” he yells, gently lowering his and Richard’s arms and removing his injured hand from his wrist.

“This is ridiculous,” he says, but the dwarves and giants are still shoving at each other. “You're all the same height!”

“Sounds like something a giant would say!” yells a dwarf.

“Don't compare us to those pathetic little men!” yells a giant.

Galavant sighs. He’s still holding onto Richard’s wrist. He lets go at this realization, sighing deeply and pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Okay. I’m going to solve all of your problems, right here and now,” he says, and that piques the interest of both sides. Gal walks over to the bridge, gets on top of the side that is “too high”, and jumps a few times. It falls, matching the side that is “too short” as it lands.

“There! The bridge is united!” he yells, throwing his arms in the air in an exasperated gesture. “No more reason to fight!”

The group is silent as he walks back to them, aside from a few murmurs. He meets Richard’s eyes, _bad idea_ , and definitely doesn't go all soft at the look he sees there. Clearly he’s taken the bridge thing as a personal apology.

“Let’s go, Richard,” Gal says, grabbing him by the arm and pulling him in the direction of their camp. The dwarves and giants have stopped fighting, so he takes that as a win, and an opportunity to leave.

“Bye, guys!” Richard waves enthusiastically with the arm Galavant isn't holding onto.

“Does this mean you're not mad at me anymore?” Richard asks, and he is _way_ too smug. Gal stops, and turns to him.

“I am still mad at you. But I realized that I don't want to fight you, and _definitely_ don't want to kill you,” Gal says, and by Richard’s reaction you would think he just confessed his undying love to him. This leads to Gal imagining how he would react if he really did confess his love, and _oh God, do I love him?_

“I knew you'd come around! How can anyone be mad at this?” Richard says, pulling the lizard out of his jacket. Where does he keep that thing? It is kind of cute, though, Gal notices, as it sticks it's little tongue out to lick Richard’s finger, but he won't admit that.

“It is a mystery,” he says, and Richard totally misses the sarcasm despite his voice dripping with it. He’s smiling brightly and kissing the lizard repeatedly on the tip of its snout.

“Hear that, Tad Cooper? He likes you! I told you he’d come around!”

Tad Cooper’s head tilts sharply to the side, and the only way Galavant can describe what he sees is a _glare_. The lizard is _glaring_ at him.

Perhaps it is more intelligent than he gave it credit for.

 

* * *

 

He catches Richard staring at him as he gets the fire going that night. He looks deep in thought, his brow furrowed. Gal has noticed that he gets like this sometimes. It’s usually when he’s missing home, or doubting himself. He hopes it isn't the latter.

“Wishing you had stayed with the dwarves?” he jests, hoping to lighten the mood.

“Hm?” Richard says, eyes widening. “No, no. I’m just… Thinking about what you said this morning.”

Oh no. Richard is doubting himself, and even worse, it's _his fault._

“Am I really a King, if my kingdom has rejected me?” he asks, voice filled with sorrow. Gal has to resist going over and pulling him into his arms, and wow, where did that urge come from? He’s never felt it during any of Richard’s “moments” in the past.

“My King,” Galavant says softly, in a moment of complete lack of mind to speech communication. He goes to take it back, or to turn it into a sentence that doesn't sound so _ripe with infatuation_ , until he sees the look on Richard’s face.

He’s looking at Gal with such pure joy that it makes his heart _ache_ . His eyes are shining, and his smile is soft. Not the usual grin he flashes, all teeth, but _soft_ and gentle. _I am so screwed. I am so screwed._

Despite Richard having assumed Galavant has already apologized, he feels the need to give a genuine apology. He gets up and walks over, before sitting down on the log Richard is occupying. Their legs press together, as always. His mind goes blank momentarily as he looks at Richard. He is still smiling that gentle smile that makes Galavant dizzy in a way that reminds him of his first week at sea.

Richard had been clingy, then. He was torn from the comfortable life he always knew and attached himself to Gal almost instantly as a result. Gal hated it. He hated Richard then, blamed him, thought it was all his fault. He snapped at him at every turn, wanting to just be left _alone_.

He softened slightly, the first time Richard asked him to sing for him. Begged him, really. He had heard Galavant quietly singing to himself one night, when he was feeling particularly melancholic. He told him that it was the only thing that allowed him to fall asleep that night.

“Sing me the song, Galavant,” practically became a catchphrase for Richard. Galavant did, every time, until the pirates threatened to kill him if he sang it one more time. It was the first thing they bonded over, and unbeknownst to the pirates, he still sang it nightly. Just loud enough for Richard to hear. He excused it in his head as a simple way to get Richard to fall asleep without needing a second pillow (his, leaving Gal with none) to hug. He now knows that wasn’t the truth.

Richard is still looking at him.

“I’m sorry for what I said,” Gal says, and is he leaning forward?

Unthinkingly, Gal places a hand on Richard’s neck. He feels his pulse, and his thumb is over his Adam’s apple as he swallows nervously, and it is _maddening_. Richard is looking at him as if he holds the world.

“My King,” he whispers, and it is not an accident this time.

Tad Cooper lands on the ground with a loud _thwump_ , startling them apart. _Damn that lizard straight to Hell._ Gal removes his hand from Richard’s neck like it burned him. He clears his throat and rubs the back of his neck, looking straight at the forest floor.

“Tad Cooper! He must be hungry,” Richard tsks, scooping up the lizard and carrying him over to a satchel full of bugs that he collected on their way back. He nearly trips, and Gal doesn't miss the deep flush on the back of his neck as he walks away.

Galavant is so screwed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if you've never seen a beardie glare, you are in for a treat: https://media.giphy.com/media/5HMD3yPr9YxPi/giphy.gif


	3. you are my daaaad! you're my dad! boogie woogie woogie

Richard is pressed along Galavant’s back on their shared horse, arms around his waist, head resting on his shoulder. The horse has begun to stumble occasionally, and Richard tightens his grip slightly every time. It would honestly be pretty nice, if they weren’t _starving_.

The horse stops abruptly, most likely feeling the effects of hunger as well.

“It stopped,” Richard says, pointing out the obvious. “This is what happened to the last one.”

“Okay, okay,” Galavant says, “Let’s just try giving it a kick. It worked before.”

By “worked”, Galavant means that it got them about another mile. He can tell the horse is tired, and knows that this will likely not do anything, but they have to try.

“One, two, three… Kick,” he says, and they kick the horse on it’s side. It neighs in protest, and Galavant knows it’s pointless.

“Great,” Galavant grumbles, just as Richard says “It’s useless”. Galavant climbs off of the horse first, before helping Richard down, despite him being the taller of the two and not really needing any assistance. His hand must be feeling better, he notices, since he grabs Galavant’s with it instead of his left.

“Are you sure we can’t eat the lizard?” Galavant asks, already knowing the answer.

“Tad Cooper is a _dragon_ , and no, I would rather starve,” Richard responds, putting his hand over the sash that he keeps Tad Cooper under in order to keep him warm. Galavant is frustrated, but doesn’t push, knowing that it wouldn’t even sustain them for a full day anyway. Plus Richard would definitely be crying too much to eat it.

Also, he would never admit it, but he’s grown rather fond of the little beast himself. He still glares at Galavant every time he sees him, but he did accept a peace offering of a worm when Richard wasn’t looking. Something about the way he sticks his little tongue out and grabs his food with it is oddly endearing.

One night he even crawled onto Galavant, no doubt seeking warmth, and actually snuggled into his neck. Galavant knows he was being used purely as a heater, but he couldn’t help but go a little soft anyway. Richard would not shut up about it when he found them the next morning.

Richard begins walking as Galavant removes their packs from the horse, until he hears a “Huh.”

“Is he any relation of yours?” Richard asks, and Galavant stands next to him to see what he’s looking at.

 _Oh no,_  Galavant thinks, _this cannot be happening._

“Entering the Property of Sir Arnold Galavant”. His father. The father that neglected him and treated his mother like dirt.

“Uh… No,” he tries, but doesn’t even believe himself. Richard merely squints at him, waiting for the truth.

“Maybe,” he says, and Richard crosses his arms and gives him a little smile. Damn him.

“Okay, fine, yes, he’s my dad,” Gal acquiesces, and Richard raises his eyebrows. “Look, I knew he lived somewhere around here, I just don’t want to see him.”

Gal knew. Gal knew they were in the same damn forest that he spent every spare moment of his childhood in. He also knows it has quite possibly seen more of his tears than anywhere else in the world.

“Well, this is great! Why wouldn’t you want to see him? He has his own sign, he must be rich and have a ton of food!” Richard says, putting his hands on Galavant’s shoulders and shaking him slightly. “How bad can he be, if he raised you?”

Galavant shrugs him off a little too harshly. “Honestly, I don’t want to talk about it. Can we just move on? I’m sure we could find a warm bed and a nice meal in literally any other direction.”

Richard crosses his arms again, and pointedly nods at the sign that says “Nothing for 20 miles”, then turns around to look at the sign indicating “Nothing for 50 miles”. The one that says “This way certain death” is just the icing on the cake.

“Oh, fiddlesticks,” is all Galavant can say.

 

* * *

 

“We’re here,” Galavant says, “Now, look, are you sure you wouldn’t rather face starvation? I would.”

"You know, I do not understand it,” Richard says, and he looks a bit upset. “My father died when I was just a boy. I would do anything to see him again.”

Galavant has to remember that Richard grew up sheltered. Coddled. He probably doesn’t understand that other people had much worse upbringings than him. That parents aren’t always nice. He remembers this, but it does little to tamp down the anger building in him.

“Well, your dad probably wasn’t a serial philanderer who was never around and left your mum!”

“At least _your_ dad is alive!” Richard snaps. They stop and stare at each other for a moment.

“I’m sorry,” they say simultaneously. “It’s alright”, they also say simultaneously.

“I’m just worried,” Galavant explains.

“About what?” Richard asks softly. His eyes make Galavant want to tell him every secret he’s ever had. But he knows he can’t.

 _If he finds out I’m in love with a king from another land he’s never going to let me live it down,_ he thinks.

“When he finds out I’m on a quest for love, he’s gonna make such fun of it,” he says. Richard seems to sympathize with this, at least. Being made fun of. He places a hand on Galavant’s shoulder.

“I’m going to be with you, you know. I’ll stand up for you,” Richard says, and it startles Galavant. Richard rarely has serious moments, but when he does, it completely floors him. All Galavant can do is smile and nod. Richard smiles back. Maybe it won’t be so bad after all.

The moment is broken by a large group of children shouting and running out of the bushes, and… Is that his dad? Carrying two children and playing pretend? Is he having a fever dream?

“Ah, greetings, son, it’s been forever! Come in!” he yells, and despite the friendly attitude, Galavant tenses on instinct. Richard seems confused, but senses Galavant’s distress and wraps a hand around his forearm regardless. He smiles, and gently pulls Galavant in the direction of his father and the… many, many children.

Galavant removes himself from Richard’s grasp, afraid of his father’s reaction if he notices. Richard looks hurt, but he can’t focus on that right now.

“I will be damned!” his father says, walking towards him. He claps Richard on the shoulder on his way, and Galavant clenches his jaw.

“I never thought I’d live to see my oldest son with such a bushy beard,” he says, and he actually has the gall to grab Galavant’s chin. He slaps his hand away immediately.

“It’s not bushy, it’s correct for the period,” he says, just trying to get his father _away_. Instead, he grabs his arms.

“And it suits you!” he says, before _thankfully_ letting go, turning to usher them into his house.

Richard steps next to him, but does not move to touch him. They look at each other for a moment, before Galavant reluctantly follows his father.

“You have a lot of children,” Richard says in an attempt to break the ice, “Your wife must be so sore!”

Galavant shoots him a glare. His father would never have had more children with his mother, so he must have re-married. This makes Galavant even angrier.

“They’re not mine!” his father says, “I run a swordsmanship school for at-risk youth. Have been ever since I retired from the heroics game.”

Isn’t that just rich. His father, who by all of his accounts was a _terrible_ father, is caring for _multiple_ children. Was ruining his childhood not enough?

The barn door is pushed open, and there are even more children. A lot more children. And they all look genuinely happy to see him.

“Oh, please,” Galavant says under his breath, and Richard is clearly torn between what he’s seeing and what Galavant has said.

 

* * *

 

 

After a very awkward but much needed lunch, his father is the one to suggest that Richard practice swordsmanship with the children. Galavant can train Richard perfectly fine, thank you very much. Richard doesn’t decline, though, and even seems to like the idea.

“All right, boys, who’s gonna train me?” he asks, and all seven of them pull out their wooden swords at once.

“Oh,” Richard says as one of the boys approaches him, fancily flipping his sword. “Watch the face!” he pleas, “What’s wrong with you?! Good lord.”

Galavant is watching from the bannister, and can’t help but smile. There was a time when he would’ve paid good money to see this. Now, though, the sight of Richard playing with the children merely makes his stomach do flips.

Well, sort of playing.

“Why you little—” Richard yells, swinging his sword at a child with absolutely no restrain. They’re much more nimble than him, though, and the boy runs between his legs, laughing. Richard is clearly somewhat frustrated, but the kids seem to love him.

Galavant spends a few more moments merely watching him, no doubt with a goofy smile on his face, when one of the children steps into the middle of the room.

“Sir Galavant, tell us what it was like to grow up with your awesome dad!” he says, and he sounds genuine. He genuinely believes his father is _awesome_. The others yell in agreement, also wanting to know. What has he done to brainwash these poor children?

“Well, kiddies,” he says, walking down the stairs, “There was this one time… Well, I remember it like it was yesterday. Gather ‘round.”

He is being petty, he knows. He knows he should let these kids go on believing that their father figure is a great man, and retain their innocence. But he endured _years_ of neglect and emotional abuse and can’t just let that go.

“He told my mother that he didn’t love her, right in front of my face. And then he passed out on the dog,” he says, with an arm around one of the boys. Richard looks concerned. “And it was Christmas. And the dog died. That man doesn’t care about anybody but _himself_.”

“That’s not true,” one of the boys says. “I was starving in the poorhouse when your dad took me in, and he gave me everything you left here in your drawer!”

“Wait, what?” Galavant questions, noticing that the boys _are_ wearing some articles of his old clothing. One of them even has his favorite hat.

The kids all agree, yelling about how “he was there”, and Galavant cannot believe that they are talking about _his father_.

“Stop!” he yells, “I was practically abandoned by that smug and selfish jerk! It’s like nothing that I did was quite enough.”

Galavant is practically ranting to these children that are too young to understand, but he can’t help it.

“Plus his ego’s out of hand, and all he cares about is work. And I can’t believe he gave you all my stuff!”

“He was—” one of the boys begins, but Galavant cuts him off with “Never there! Never, _ever_ there!”

His father walks in at this moment, and Galavant turns. He has the audacity to look _hurt_ at Galavant’s words, as if he doesn’t know that he treated him horribly.

Richard walks up to him, and places a hand on his shoulder. He looks genuinely concerned, but Galavant can’t handle it right now. He shakes his arm off, and makes his way to the exit. Richard stays behind to console the children, as if _they_ need it more than him. This makes him even angrier, and he slams the barn door behind him.

 

* * *

 

 

Perhaps on instinct, he goes to one of the many hiding places he had as a child. It’s behind the barn, where the grass is always a bit overgrown. When he was a child, he was able to hide completely. But now he is too big, and it does little to cover him. He sighs deeply, putting his face in his hands.

He knew it was a bad idea to come here. Every horrible memory is resurfacing itself in Galavant’s mind at once. The countless nights he spent consoling his crying mother. He had to stay strong and never cry in front of her. He knew that she had enough to deal with without him. The nights _he_ spent crying himself to sleep to the sound of their arguing.

Galavant still flinches every time he hears glass break.

He hears the sound of a twig breaking under foot, and quickly wipes his eyes. When did he start crying?

“Did my father tell you where to find me?” he asks, knowing it’s Richard. He knows Richard needs to be able to make his own decisions and opinions on people, but the fact that he has been getting along with his father upsets him nonetheless.

“No,” he says, “May I sit?”

Galavant gestures next to him, and Richard winces a bit as he sits down on the tall, itchy grass. He bumps their knees together and looks at him.

“I know I said that I’d give anything to see my father again, but in truth, I was usually alone, too,” he says gently, and Galavant looks up at him.

“He was so busy being King and teaching Kingsley everything there is to know about ruling, that I rarely ever got a moment with him. Nanny Pearl is the only one who ever truly cared about me, I think,” he admits. “But even then, she was paid to.”

“What about Gareth?” Galavant asks, and God, his voice sounds weak.

Richard chuckles, perhaps a little bitterly. “Gareth was assigned as my guard,” he says, “He was sworn to protect me, he didn’t choose it. And you know how that ended up.”

Richard’s eyes are rimmed with tears, Galavant notices then. He takes his hand in both of his, and Richard’s eyes lock onto it, almost freezing. Gal runs his fingers over his still bandaged palm, and he hopes Richard hasn’t forgotten to breathe.

“My father is the reason I never believed in love,” he admits. “Until Madalena.”

Galavant laughs, an echo of Richard a moment earlier. “And you know how that ended up.”

“I’m sorry,” Richard whispers, and lifts his eyes from their hands to look at Galavant. “All of this, everything that’s happened to you, is because of me.”

“You didn’t force Madalena to betray me. Or Isabella,” he says. “You threatened her family, yes, but she could’ve come clean at any time. I would’ve figured something out. We even went through the _Forest of Truth_ and she somehow didn’t see that as an opportunity.”

They both laugh at this, until it trails off and they are left smiling at each other. They are still holding hands. Galavant leans closer, and—

“Son! There you are!” his father exclaims, and they jump apart. He wishes he was small enough to hide in the grass. “Come! I have something to show you. It’s important.”

 

* * *

 

 

Galavant isn’t sure what he was expecting, but a tapestry representing his life sure isn’t it.

“This is me,” he says, confused.

“It is,” his father agrees, stepping closer to him. “I stitched it. It’s your whole life.”

“There’s you when you were born,” he points out, hand on his shoulder. Galavant tries not to flinch away. “That’s you being fitted for your first suit of chainmail.”

Galavant is stunned, and doesn’t know what to think. His father did this? _His_ father who would rather drink until he pukes than have a single conversation with him?

“And that’s you, waiting for me to play throw the cabbage around,” he points, “When I forgot and never showed.”

He remembers that day. His father had promised to play with him, and Gal had looked forward to it all day. It was one of many disappointments.

“You’re kidding,” he says, noticing a particularly large tapestry and walking over to it. “That’s the day I won the M.V.K! At the St. Julian’s Day Massacre!”

“Most Valuable Knight,” his father agrees. “You ripped those serfs to pieces!”

“You couldn’t know how proud I was that day,” his father says, voice wistful. “Mostly because I didn’t tell you.”

Galavant doesn’t think he will ever completely forgive his father, or heal from the damage done to him. But perhaps he can try. To lessen the hatred in his heart just a little, if nothing else.

“You’ve been following my adventures this whole time,” he says, turning to look at him. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“You know us old-school knights,” he explains, “We can really only express ourselves through tapestry.”

Galavant has never heard of knights expressing themselves through tapestry, but he goes with it.

“I was there, Galavant,” he says softly. “I never said it, but I’ve always been proud. If you somehow can forgive me, I’ll be there.”

He never expected to hear any of this. His throat burns, holding back tears, but he does not move.

“Go and rescue your princess. Marry her, and be the father and husband I never was.”

Right. Isabella. This brings him crashing back to reality, and he remembers that he is set to _marry Isabella._ God, how is he going to explain this to her? “Hey, Isabella, I know I said I would marry you, but turns out I’m actually in love with the King who threatened your parents and stole your kingdom. Also, he traded your precious jewel for a lizard.”? That’ll go over well.

His father moves to leave, and on a whim, he stops him.

“Dad,” he says, “You want to play throw the cabbage around?”

 

* * *

 

Richard stops him with a hand on his arm, and asks if he’s okay.

“I think I am,” he says, smiling. And he means it.

“Good,” Richard says, and gives his arm a squeeze. “Now, I have some children to kill.”

“What?” Galavant asks, but Richard is already screaming and being swarmed.

“Cheaters!” Richard yells, as a boy giggles and screams “Get the King!”.

Galavant watches, a smile on his face. Just then, he hears the gallop of a horse, and a familiar voice.

“Galavant!” Sid yells, and he is the last person Gal expected to see.

“Sid!” he shouts, “You escaped!”

Sid dismounts the horse and runs at him, before barreling into him and hugging him. Galavant laughs, and thinks _this is a good day_.

He gets Sid at arm’s length after being squeezed a little too hard.

“Oh, it’s good to see you, Sir!” he cries, “I have news. Princess Isabella is being forced to marry her cousin in Hortensia.”

Right. Isabella.

“I know, and I’m not gonna let it happen,” Gal assures. He may not want to marry Isabella, but he certainly won’t let her be forced to marry her _eleven year old cousin._ “I’m gonna raise an army to rescue her.”

“Then I’ve got something you’ll want,” Sid says, a huge smile on his face. He runs back to the horse, just as Richard yells “Look out! Wild monkeys!” and runs past him.

Sid pulls Galavant’s sword out from its sheath, and holds it up proudly.

“Your sword!”

He is indeed glad to see it, but Galavant hears Richard grunting and the sound of punching behind him, so he turns.

“Richard!” he yells, “Play nice! They’re children!”

“They don’t play nice!” he retorts, just as Sid yells “Galavant, look out!”

The last thing he remembers is the feeling of a sword piercing his chest, and Richard with panic clear on his face.


	4. true love's kiss

“Galavant? Galavant, stay with me, please!” Richard yells, feeling awful each time a bump causes Gal to groan in pain.

He stops in front of some waysigns, reading them quickly.

“The Grove has great shops, and an apple store! Apples are said to be good for your health!” Sid helpfully supplies.

“Sporin has a healer,” Richard responds, remembering that his father was taken there when he fell ill. “To Sporin! Ride fast!”

They arrive, and getting Galavant off of the horse is no easy task. He is moaning in pain, and he lands in Richard’s arms roughly, only making it worse.

“I’m sorry,” Richard whispers, wrapping his arm around Galavant’s waist to carry him.

“Let me help!” Sid cries as they enter the healer’s home.

“Oh, you’ve done quite enough already! I’ll handle this!” Richard snaps. Galavant can’t die. He _can’t_.

“Help!” he screams as loud as he can. “For the love of God! Somebody! Help!”

Richard mind is a blur in his panic, but he knows the healer’s name is Neo and that he says he can heal anything.

“Mr. Of Sporin, you must help us,” he begs as Galavant gasps, “My friend is in dire shape!”

He places Galavant on the table, and he groans loudly in pain.  
  
“Sorry, sorry,” he says gently, feeling dizzy with guilt and worry.

“What happened? Was it a Rosé All Day type of situation?” Neo asks.

“This guy stabbed him with a sword!” Richard points at Sid, and he knows he is going to kill him with his bare hands if Galavant doesn’t make it out of this.

“It was. An. Accident,” Sid grits out.

“Please, you must save him, he is very important to me,” Richard pleads.

“I’ll do what I can, but we must act fast,” Neo says, flipping over an hourglass.

He begins pacing around, grabbing various things that don’t seem to be at all relevant to saving Galavant. Richard loses it when he pours what looks like a potion into a goblet, only to drink out of it.

“What the hell are you—” he starts, only to be interrupted by Neo saying something about being gassy. Richard sees red.

“Listen here, wizard, or whatever you are, I am here for you here to save my friend, so _save him_ ,” he says, grabbing Neo by the collar of his robes.

“Okay, okay,” Neo says, “But time is of the essence or he’s… Dead.”

They both look at Galavant, and his eyes are closing. His chest is no longer rising and falling.

“No, no no no,” Richard panics, letting go of Neo and putting his ear over Galavant’s mouth. “He’s not breathing! Do something!”

Neo grabs his wrist, checking for a pulse. “He’s dead,” he whispers. “If only you had gotten here sooner!”

Sid is whimpering. Richard has to resist taking Galavant and burning this entire cursed place to the ground.

“What else can we do?” he asks, voice hard, because he _refuses_ to believe that there is nothing he can do.

“Well… There is one thing,” Neo says.

“What?!” Richard yells, barely resisting grabbing the wizard and shaking him.

“Trueloveskiss,” Neo mumbles.

“Say again?”

“True love’s kiss!” Neo says, louder this time. “But I have no idea if it would work, and I doubt his true love is here in the first place.”

Richard breaks. Isabella isn’t here. Isabella is _across_ _the ocean_. Galavant is going to stay dead, and there’s nothing he can do. Richard runs a hand through his hair, and goes outside, needing to be away from this. Sid, of course, follows him.

“Richard!” he shouts, ignoring the door in his face and meeting him outside.

“What if I can go get Isabella and—”

“You can’t. By the time you got back it would be too late.”

Sid deflates, and slumps against the wall, mimicking Richard’s position.

“It’s funny,” Richard says, “When you’re King, you’re given everything you ever want. Now all I want is Galavant back, and there’s nothing I can do about it.”

Sid seems unsure of what to say. He is the one that killed him, after all.

“What if there is something?” he says after a few moments.

 

* * *

 

Galavant wakes up with a gasp. He is in a foggy room, and there is a _very_ creepy person in front of him.

“Are… Are you Death?” he asks. The hooded figure nods, a bell tolls, and Galavant remembers now. The sword. The pain in his chest. Richard’s concern. Richard carrying him on horseback, asking him to just please stay with him. _Richard_.

“I’m dead?” he asks, and the figure nods again. “Fucking Sid!”

He sighs, wondering what the hell he’s going to do, when he hears a _whoosh_ and Death is now behind him. Literal Death.

Death slides the bed away, and removes his hood. He looks like… An old man? Not really how Galavant pictured Death to look, but it’s not like that changes anything.

“It’s time to say goodbye,” he says, and why does Death have an accent?

Ghostly figures appear all around him, and Gal begins to panic slightly.

“Why not make amends to all your family and friends?” Death says, and all of the ghostly figures reach towards a doorway.

Sid appears first. He is a mess.

“I’m sorry that I made you die!” he cries.

“It is not okay, Sid,” Galavant responds, because it’s not.

“Yeah, I’m here, I’m not sure why,” Madalena says, and seriously? Madalena?

“Me, either. Seriously, who invited you?”

A random guy appears next, and really? That’s all he gets? Sid, Madalena, and a random guy? What about Richard and—

Isabella. She appears, and seems to be at some kind of war table.

“Isabella?” he tries to reach for her, but his hand goes right through.

She seems to be making preparations to… Lead an army? Why?

“Somehow I feel like I’ll get through this,” she mumbles, and her confidence warms Gal’s heart.

“You will,” he says, even though she can’t hear him.

The Jester appears next. “You asked to see me, Princess?” he asks.

“Take me to the armory,” Isabella orders. “It’s time to defend this kingdom.”

Defend Hortensia? From what? Is Madalena trying to—

“Galavant, if you can hear me… I’m going to try something, but you might not like it.”

Richard.

 

* * *

 

Richard has to kiss Galavant. Richard has to kiss Galavant and he is _dead_. He is almost positive that it will have no effect. Well, aside from driving home that Richard is _not_ his true love and breaking him even more.

“You obviously care about him! You need to at least try!” Sid says.

“Why don’t you try, then?” Richard snaps, even though he’s pretty sure he would kill Sid if he laid a hand on Galavant right now.

Sid merely looks at him and crosses his arms.

“Fine!”

They go back inside, and Neo is still decluttering his house, throwing things in boxes. This is fine with Richard, as he’s pretty sure an audience will make him even more likely to chicken out of this. Sid being here is bad enough.

“Galavant,” he says, placing a hand over his once beating heart. “If you can hear me... I’m going to try something, but you might not like it.”

 

* * *

 

Galavant feels a warmth in his chest as he walks up to Richard. He tries to place a hand on his cheek, but it goes right through, just like with Isabella.

“I never even got to tell you…” he starts, and then Richard is kissing him. Kissing him and he can _feel_ it even in this strange purgatory.

“No!” Death yells, and the white figures howl as they begin disappearing. Richard is warm. Richard is warm and he can feel him and it is _wonderful_.

He comes back to the real world with a gasp against Richard’s lips.

“Galavant!” he hears Sid cry, but all he cares about is Richard. Richard, Richard, _Richard._

“It worked,” Richard whispers, tears in his eyes. “It worked!”

Richard pulls him into a hug, and Galavant wraps his arms around him in turn, gripping the back of his jacket. His beard is tickling his neck and his hair is in Galavant’s face but it is _everything_.

He pulls back to look at Richard, and his eyes are the bluest he’s ever seen.

“Like the sea,” Galavant mumbles, before kissing him again. It is dizzying, and Galavant has never felt more alive.

“Wait a minute,” Richard says, and Galavant groans in protest as he pulls away. “Is that why you said blue eyes instead of brown?”

“ _Yes_ ,Richard,” and Galavant tries to pull him back in but he resists.

“You’ve been in love with me _this whole time_?!” Richard fumes. “I thought you loved Isabella!”

“This is going to be awkward,” Sid chimes in.

“Shut up, Sid,” Richard and Galavant say in unison. Sid throws his hands up, turns around, and walks out the door.

“You said that your love is a pain in the ass, but also one of the— Oh…” Richard says. “Did you mean me?”

Galavant laughs. “Yes, you dolt. Did you really think I meant to say _eyes as brown as the sand?_ ”

“I didn’t know!” Richard whines. “It’s not like you made it obvious.”

“And what about you? You said you were in love with someone strong, handsome, and— Oh… Did you mean me?”

“Yep,” Richard says simply. “Now kiss me again. Please?”

Can’t argue with that. Galavant pulls Richard in, kissing him deeply and running a thumb gently across his cheek.

“Oh!” Neo says as he comes back into the room. “It worked!”

 

* * *

 

“Is it just me, or is he getting bigger?” Galavant says as Richard places Tad Cooper on his shoulder from behind. Three horses would be a waste, Galavant reasoned to Sid. But having Richard pressed up against his back and his arms around his waist is _definitely_ a bonus. And this time, they’re _not_ starving.

“Well, he is a dragon,” Richard says, running his hand along Tad Cooper’s spiky back. “Soon he’ll be eating sheep for dinner instead of worms. Won’t you, buddy?” he coos.

Galavant laughs, and goes to protest, but then he sees Tad Cooper tilt his head and give him _the glare_.

“That may be expensive, are you sure you want to keep him?” he asks instead.

Richard scoffs. “I’m a _King_ , Galavant, I think I can afford some sheep to feed my dragon.”

Galavant turns and kisses Richard on the cheek, causing him to blush. Maybe everything will be okay after all.


End file.
